


Temporary Truce

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Philip is dead, hammie is sad, its sad, madison is there and confused, tjeffs isnt the worst™ for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 08:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10760877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jefferson is ranting about the same thing as always: Hamilton. But when he finds him crying, Jefferson isn't as much of a jerk as we think.





	Temporary Truce

As always, the day ended with Thomas Jefferson and James Madison walking downstairs, Jefferson ranting about the same topic it always was. Alexander Hamilton.

"Honestly, James, did you hear him? I wanted to take my cane and hit him upside the head with it! Wipe that little smirk off his face..." Jefferson muttered darkly.

Madison nodded, only half-listening. He tried to keep up with his friend's fast stride, to the point where he was nearly running.

"Thomas, could you possibly not walk at the pace of someone being chased by a bear?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry." Jefferson slowed down, though still walking quickly. "I just couldn't BELIEVE IT!" He continued as they walked past countless rooms and doors. 

"And Washington bought it all! I swear, Hamilton could suggest we all burn our money and start walking around naked, and Washington would agree! He's wrapped around Hamilton's finger!"

Madison stopped, leaning into a door.

"WRAPPED AROUND! Like, you know the way snakes wrap around their prey when they're choking them, or whatever? Yeah! That's him! That's Hamilton! That's- James, are you paying attention to a single thing I'm saying?"

Madison motioned Jefferson to come closer, his head against the door. Jefferson did the same.

"Is someone crying?" Jefferson asked, reaching for the door handle.

"Thomas!" Madison hissed, grabbing his sleeve. "You can't just go in there if someone's crying!"

Jefferson shrugged. "Of course I can! If it's someone we care about, we can figure out what's wrong and help, and if it's someone we hate, we can figure out what's wrong and use it to blackmail them!"

Jefferson turned the knob, and Madison groaned.

*Why can't I ever just keep him in check...?* He thought to himself.

To both men's surprise, the person crying was none other than Alexander Hamilton himself.

"HAMILTON?" They exclaimed in unison.

"JEFFERSON? MADISON?" Hamilton looked up, immediately flushing. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves. 

"What are you doing here?!" He asked nastily.

"I could ask you the same question!" Jefferson shot back.

"Gentlemen, please." Madison said, those there was a tone of curiosity in his voice.

"I was just leaving for home." Hamilton lied, grabbing his briefcase. 

"Sure you were."

"Bitter you live in a trashcan?"

"At least I'm not trash myself."

"GENTLEMEN!" Madison snapped.

"SHUT UP!" They both retorted.

"Look," Jefferson said angrily, "I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong! But if you're gonna be a jerk about it, then-"

"I'm fine, for your information." Hamilton said snidely, making way for the door. Jefferson, however, rolled his eyes and blocked the door.

"Look," he sighed, "You and I may not be the best of friends, but I'm not inhumane, and if you're crying your eyes out that makes me worried! Now, what's wrong?"

"Let me guess, you're not letting me leave until I tell you?"

"Basically."

Hamilton groaned and flopped himself into a chair. Jefferson sat down across from him. Madison hesitated, then did the same.

Hamilton sighed and rubbed his nose. "It's just... today *would've been* my son Phillip's birthday..."

"The one who got shot?" Jefferson asked, earning him a slap from Madison. "Oh. Sorry. Umm... Your oldest?" He asked, much gentler this time. 

Hamilton nodded. "Yup."

"Oh." Was all Jefferson said, biting his lip. He was unsure of what to say.

"Well, umm... I mean, he's in a better place now, isn't he...?" 

Hamilton nodded, but then he broke down, burying his face in his hands.

Jefferson looked at Madison and mouthed "What do I do?" He shrugged helplessly. Jefferson sighed, before getting up out of his chair.

He walked over to Hamilton and began rubbing his back.

"Er... it's okay..." Jefferson comforted, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation. He didn't really know what else to say, so he just stayed there, rubbing his back. 

Jefferson turned his head with a questioning look, and Madison gave his friend a nod. Then he motioned for him to keep going. "Okay," Jefferson mouthed.

Eventually, Hamilton stopped crying, (for the most part) and lifted his head. Jefferson withdrew his hand.

"Thanks." Hamilton said awkwardly.

"Sure. So... temporary truce?"

Hamilton chuckled. "Sure. But I'm still kicking your butt at the next meeting."

"Sure," Jefferson said with a laugh, "Kicking it to victory." 

Hamilton picked up his briefcase and left.

"That was nice of you, Thomas." Madison said as he stood up.

"Yeah, whatever... C'mon..." Jefferson sighed, opening the door. 

The two Southerners trailed out, and Madison couldn't help but smile.

*Maybe we'll actually be able to have a PEACEFUL debate WITHOUT me getting a headache...* He thought.

 

 

The next meeting, they were at it again.

"OH, OF COURSE, SIR, LET'S DO AS JEFFERSON SUGGESTS, IF WE WANT TO RUN OUR NATION INTO THE GROUND!"

"YOU'D KNOW A LOT ABOUT LIVING UNDERGROUND, WOULDN'T YOU, HAMILTON?!"

"YOU WANT TO COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE?!"

"WHAT FACE?! ALL I SEE IS MOUTH!"

"AT LEAST I HAVE A MOUTH! ALL I SEE ON YOUR 'FACE' IS WASTED GENETICS!"

"Glad to see the friendship lasted..." Madison muttered with a sigh.


End file.
